Ti Amo Anche
by kerber1920
Summary: We've always wondered what 'really' happened on Jim and Pam's date after "Money". This takes a peek at how our favorite couple spent that night.
1. Baci Appassionati

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended_

_Ti Amo Anche_

_by kerber1920_

_Baci Appassionati_

Pam still didn't understand why Jim did that, in the middle of the day in front of the entire office. But thinking back to his hands cupping her face, his warm lips on hers, she flushed and realized she shouldn't worry if anyone noticed. After glancing at the clock and then towards Michael's office, Pam switched over the phones and grabbed her things.

"So I'm going to head out," she said as she leaned against his desk. He'd just hung up from a sales call, but she smiled at the perplexed look on his face. "Michael's on an 'important' call with Jan about the condo. He told me he doesn't want to be interrupted. It's close enough to quitting time and I've got a date to get ready for," she explained, trying to bite back a giggle.

"So, leaving me alone to help solve Dwight's love life issues? Thanks Beesly, I see how it is," Jim said, leaning back in his desk chair and crossing his arms. "This better be some date if you're leaving at 4:18," he muttered after glancing at the clock on his computer monitor.

"Well I'm kind of hoping it is. You know this guy that I'm going with, he's pretty special," Pam grinned slyly. "Which is why I need to go now before Michael comes out wanting a new way for me to BlackBerry him his messages." She pushed herself off of Jim's desk and went to grab her coat and purse. "Later Halpert," she said with a wave as she walked out the door.

"Where does Pam think she's going? Jim?" Dwight asked coming in from the outside stairwell. "It's only 4:24. As the incompetent number two that you are, you are not supposed to allow these types of insubordinate activities to occur. Michael needs to know that you can't even manage something as simple as the receptionist..."

_So much for a quiet, Dwight-free afternoon_ Jim thought to himself. After their conversation, Jim had assumed he made some headway with Dwight. But as his brother Jon would love to remind him, "Jim, when you assume things you make an ass out of you and me." Jim finished the paperwork that had to get done from his last sales call, a decent sale to a new pediatric practice in New Milford. As he signed his name to the last form, he realized he and Pam forgot to set a specific time for their dinner date.

Instead of making plans in front of the whole office, he decided to slip out early as well and call Pam on his way out. Jim looked behind him to make sure Michael's office door was still closed. The rest of the office was humming away at their usual pace for a late Friday afternoon. Dwight, despite being on a sales call, kept switching his sight from Jim's desk over to the accounting department. It was now or never. He filed his paperwork and cleaned up some of the mess of his desk before sliding on his jacket. Grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Jim did one last survey of the office before quietly slipping out the door, hopefully unnoticed.

Once far enough from the confines of the office, he flipped open his phone to dial Pam. "Hey, you're not calling me from the office," she said as she picked up the phone. "I hope you're not backing out on me already." She was just about to walk through her apartment door and hoped that their plans for the evening weren't changing already.

"No, no I'm not. Very observant. I'm taking a page from you. Besides, I have a pretty big night ahead of me myself. But you were too wrapped up in your evening to ask about mine," Jim quipped. "I need to take care of a few things and then pick up my date."

"What time do you have to pick the lucky lady up?" Pam asked, grinning into the phone. "It is a lady right?"

"Funny, very funny," he said with a laugh. "Yes, a pretty special one at that. I was thinking about picking her up about seven, figure that should give her enough time to get ready. What do you think, that should be enough time for her to go through all her girly pre-date rituals right?"

In little moments like these, Pam thought to herself that this is what made what she had with Jim so special. She was so happy with what her life had become, even with the journey they had to endure to get there. She began to lose herself in thoughts of the last few weeks, thinking of everything from the smiles, the slight brushes of their hands, to the way they spent last night together at the farm. Pam also couldn't forget this afternoon. The way Jim walked through the door, with his eyes focused solely on her. The way he slid his hands up to her skin, cupping her face tenderly. And that kiss. That kiss, the amazing tingling she felt from the tips of her toes all the way up to the tips of her ears. It was a feeling that she hadn't felt in a long, long time. That kiss made her want to never stop kissing him, never let go of him.

"Pam, you still there? I didn't lose you did I? I thought I was out of that dead zone off of Ridge Parkway," Jim asked.

"No, no I'm still here, sorry," she answered. "So yeah, I think seven would give her plenty of time to get ready for you. It sounds like you've got a good night ahead of you. And speaking of which, I better get going myself. I need to get some of those pre-date rituals you spoke of going for my night. Now you have fun and I expect a full update on how things went." Pam had to bite her tongue a little to keep from breaking out in side-splitting laughter.

"A full update? Okay Beesly, only because you asked," Jim replied. "You have a good time yourself tonight. Hopefully it's a decent date. We'll catch up later. Bye Pam."

"Thanks, you too. She better treat you well tonight. Bye Jim," she sighed as they hung up with each other. Pam placed her cell phone back down on the coffee table before wandering out of the living room.

This is what it's supposed to be like, it's supposed to be fun and full of love. Love? After everything, they still hadn't said that to each other. The last it was mentioned was the night of Jim's confession. So much had happened since then, but despite it all, here they were finally together. They had their nights just spent laughing on the couch until two or three in the morning, talking about anything and nothing. Pam loved those as much as their date nights, the times when they'd go to the movies or go to dinner. Then there were the hard nights, where silences became intense and emotional, delving back into _those days_. All those moments shaped what was Jim and Pam and she loved what they had. Loved? Yes, loved. There were times she thought about telling him, but it just didn't feel **right**. She thought about saying it so many times, in those moments when his hand slid against her side, pulling her closer to him or when his lips would brush against her neck, when she wanted to bring him closer, but she couldn't. The moment would die, his hand would fall away, and he would only smile. After last night at the farm, and more so after what happened this afternoon, she knew. She just knew.

_Tonight_, she said to herself. _I have to tell him tonight._


	2. Occhiate di Amore

Occhiate di Amore

The realization that came to Pam made getting ready for her date with Jim mean even more. Tonight was going to be more than that, much more than those three little words. She was going to tell him that she loved him. With it only being a little after five, Pam had time to enjoy getting ready for Jim, indulging in a few more of those pre-date rituals that she thought she wouldn't have the time for.

Time seemed to pass by quickly. The next thing Pam knew, her doorbell was ringing as she threaded the small silver hoop into her right ear. _Am I running late? _she thought to herself as she grabbed her cardigan from the bed and walked out towards the front door.

"_Early of course, I should have known,"_ she said to herself after glancing at the clock on her DVD player. _ "He says to be ready at 7:00 and he's here at 6:48."_

"Who's there?" she questioned, biting the side of her lip and smoothing her hands down her dress. She bit back a giggle as she placed her hand on the doorknob. Pam laughed more lately. She laughed, smiled, grinned a lot more than she used to. It wasn't just because of the changes she was making for herself; it was because of the man outside her door. And she liked this 'happy Pam' that she was becoming.

"Hi, I have a delivery for a Miss Pam Beesly," he said in a falsetto that reminded Pam of Andy's singing. "Can you sign for this please?"

As she opened the door and stepped back, the first thing she noticed was not Jim. It was what he was holding. It wasn't your typical bouquet, though it had a few flowers scattered here and there in it. This one, however, had paintbrushes off all different types, pastels, charcoals, colored pencils, and palate knives all tied together with a soft pink ribbon.

"Jim," she sighed as she took hold of the unique bouquet. "You didn't have to do all this…"

"I know you said last night you needed a few new things for the summer class and well it's not a real date without some flowers," he shrugged interrupting her mid thought. Jim slipped his free hand in his pocket. "So I killed two birds with one stone. And you did say you found inspiration in the walk through the beet fields," he said with a lopsided grin on his face. "I wanted to help further the pursuits of Scranton's newest art star."

_Add this to the list of reasons of why I'm telling him tonight_, Pam noted to herself as a flush crept across her skin. "Thank you," she said softly before kissing his cheek and tugging him into her apartment. "Let me just put these away and get my purse."

Pam brought her bouquet into the kitchen, carefully sliding the fresh blooms out from between the brushes and pencils and placing them into a vase. She carefully ran a finger along the soft petals of one of the peach roses. Before she lost herself further in thought, she heard Jim from her living room, "I'm glad you finally listened to me and hung up some of your pieces. These walls were too bare."

"Okay, all set," she said, grabbing both her purse and cardigan off the couch. "Ready to rock and roll?" Jim shook his head no, reaching out for Pam. She looked at him quizzically. "Jim?" she questioned.

Jim pulled Pam in close, wrapping one arm around her waist. She felt his breath on her ear, warm and moist before his lips met hers. It felt like they were in that spot, the moment, the embrace forever. She felt like she was floating. Jim pulled back first, leaning his forehead against hers.

Pam barely squeaked out, "What was that…"

"Had to say hello first before we could go. Ready?" Pam just nodded in agreement, still breathless. He had a way of making her feel things she never thought were possible.

"Hey, Jim?" she asked nervously. This was it; this was the time she was going to tell him. Jim slipped his arm from around her waist to take hold of her hand. He looked over at her with a smile that spread from ear to ear. Pam felt him give her hand a squeeze and when she looked up and met his eyes, she lost all her thoughts. _No, not right, not yet,_ she thought. _I have to get this right. _"I just need my sweater before we go."

He nodded, snagging the cream cardigan from the couch and draping it lightly over her shoulders. "Come on Beesly, we're going to lose our reservations," he quipped with a wink, tugging her by the hand out the door.

"Wow. Reservations? Impressive" she giggled as they walked to his car.

"Well I'm looking to get lucky," Jim smirked.

Immediately a flush swept over him. They were falling back into their regular banter. _Smooth move there buddy, _he thought. Especially after the conversation about that exact subject they had last night at the farm in Dwight's oddly shaped beds. "You're going to have to fold up like an accordion to even think about fitting in that," she mentioned, looking between the two linen covered lumps. After their bedtime story from Dwight, they quickly pushed both beds together as best as they could and settled down in each other's arms. Jim remembered holding her against his chest, her hands intertwined with his over her stomach when she shook her head and said so softly that she couldn't just yet. He shifted her closer, tighter to him and promised that it was alright, that he could wait. There was no rush, no pressure, and no 'need for speed' as he joked last night. _And what do I do, _Jim thought, _I go and say something that Roy would have said to get in her pants. _She lightly squeezed his hand and smiled up at him.

"Damn, you figured out all my tricks already, I'm in trouble," Jim chuckled as he opened the car door for her. "I was even going to let you pick out the music for the drive over, but since you're onto me, maybe I'll just subject you to the CD Jon sent me a few weeks ago."

The drive to the restaurant was anything but typical for a Friday night in Scranton. Pam left Jim in charge of the music, listening to what Jim told her 'Jon's taste in musical expression'. They hit each and every red light and then a bout of stand-still traffic on the Scranton Expressway.

Jim began to drum his fingers against the steering wheel in frustration. "Never going to make it at this rate," he sighed as the car inched up the highway. Pam reached over and stilled Jim's hand with hers.

"When we get there, we get there. It's Scranton, do you think we're going to get closed out of the place?" she said as she reached for his iPod. "Ok enough of this noise from Jon. A change in tunes should help your mood." Pam flipped through his playlists. "I'm worried about you now after seeing some of the bands in here. Crowded House, Mr. Big, do I really want to know about your inner 80's hair band love?"

"I think someone owns Monster Ballads, don't they?" he said with a laugh. "You should be able to find something suitable, Beesly."

"Here we go," Pam nodded, clicking through his 'Acoustic & Unplugged' playlist and hitting play on the cover of a Death Cab for Cutie song he played for her a few nights ago. "And look, a change in tunes has the traffic moving."

With cars moving back to the speed limit, Jim was able to pull into the parking lot with about 7 minutes to spare. "Thank goodness, made it," he said letting go a breath he'd seemed to have been holding since the stop and go traffic. "Ready?" Jim asked as he pulled the keys from the ignition.

Pam nodded with a smile, looking over at him. "Yeah, yeah I am." She watched as Jim shifted out of his seat, around to her side of the car to open her door. As the sun started to set slowly over them and the light breeze blew through her hair, she knew she had goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cool autumn sky.


	3. Devozione Promessa

The two walked hand in hand through the door's of the restaurant with Pam rolling her eyes and laughing at Jim's lame impressi

The two walked hand in hand through the door's of the restaurant with Pam rolling her eyes and laughing at Jim's lame impression of Bob Vance.

"Not even close there Jim, seriously that's your best impression of Bob Vance?" Pam asked.

"Vance Refrigeration," he smiled.

The evening seemed to be going smoothly until they reached the hostess podium. Jim heard a voice over the low hum of the restaurant. He knew that sound too well, that no one wants to hear after five o'clock, the voice that sounded at times like nails scraping down a chalkboard.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Jim sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Maybe traffic was a better option."

Pam looked at him quizzically; she had no idea what he was mumbling about. "Everything okay? What's the matter?"

"Jimboree," Michael shouted scurrying up to the front of the dining room towards them. "Woah and Pam! Pam? Seriously, why can't you look like this at the office? You look smoking hot in that little dress."

"Hey Michael, we're just getting dinner…" Jim started to say before Michael jumped in again.

"We've got room, come sit with us. Our last meal out for a while since I declared bankruptcy. Come join the celebration!"

Pam wrapped her cardigan around her, trying to shield as much from Michael as she possibly could. "Oh no," she said under her breath, just loud enough for Jim to hear her. "Please no."

"We've got reservations already, but thanks. And we don't want to intrude on your 'last supper' with Jan," Jim replied. "You two should enjoy it without us kids crashing the party."

"No, you and your little lady friend would be adding to the funtivities," Michael said.

The last thing she expected or wanted to see tonight was Michael Scott. Jim squeezed her hand. Pam smiled a bit of a forced grin as Jim carefully maneuvered the conversation with Michael.

"Seriously, Pam just a little more of that everyday, it would motivate all of us. But you guys need to come join us! Jan bought some crazy bottle of Chianti to go with her lamb shanks," Michael started to explain as the hostess made her way to the front of the restaurant.

"Mitzy, Mitzy, maybe you can help me. I tried to order fava beans with the wine Jan ordered, but the waiter just got annoyed with me. Now, if I said that to you, what would _you_ guess?" Mitzy was unimpressed, but Michael kept going. "Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins...1991. Come on! Fava beans, Chianti – Silence of the Lambs!" Michael quipped.

"Sir, sir please go back to your table, we'll have someone with you shortly. Please don't bother the other customers," the flustered hostess said frantically, looking as if she had been though a few battles already today other than managing Michael.

"Bother?! These are my bffs! My peeps!" Michael exclaimed. "I helped bring their passionate love affair to fruition."

Thankfully at that point Jan called out for Michael, "Michael, your food's here. Leave Jim and Pam alone to enjoy their evening, they're off company time." Jan waved at the couple and motioned for Michael to come back.

"Well the little lady is a callin'. You two have fun," Michael said, eyeing Pam up and down once again. "Jimmy, you are one lucky guy. Get it? Lucky? Cause you're gonna…"

"Michael," Jan called out to him again.

He scampered back to his table with a gigantic grin plastered across his face.

"Wow, that was Michael unplugged as we haven't heard in a long time," Jim said. "He did make one good point, you do look really amazing tonight."

Pam blushed, "Thanks."

"Sorry about that wait you guys," the hostess sighed, looking back over towards Jim and Pam. "Do you have a reservation?"

Jim smirked, "We understand, believe me. Yes, reservations should be under Halpert."

The hostess snatched some menus and took them through the main dining room through a set of French doors that led out to a small patio set up the side of the building.

"Not a terrace, but best I could do on short notice," Jim said, pulling out the chair for Pam.

Time and time again, Jim never fails to do something that slightly short-circuits her brain a little more. It's always something just to make sure she knew he remembered, that he made her feel special, loved. She felt a flush slowly creep across her cheeks. "It's perfect," she said softly as he sat down across from her at the small table near the edge of the patio. Jim took a hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers, rubbing his thumb over her palm in a lazy circle.

"Now," he started, "After having that type of an entrance to what should have been a nice, quiet and more importantly Michael-free evening, I think a bottle of wine is in order. At least one bottle, possibly more. What do you think, maybe start with white?"

Just as the two leaned over a wine list, debating between a pinot grigio and a sauvignon blanc, a waiter came over, juggling a few different things in his hands.

"Complements of the gentleman and his lady inside," the server said, bringing over an ice chiller with two bottles peeking out of it. "He said it was his declaration gift to the red hot lovers."

Pam had to bite her lip to keep from laughing hysterically. "You can laugh, it's okay," she told the young man.

"Jim, is that…?"she asked, peering towards the bucket at the side of the table, looking at the slight tinge of a pink peering through the ice.

"Nothing but the best from Michael," he laughed as he slid the bottles out to show Pam. "Two bottles of Arbor Mist, a strawberry white zinfandel and a passion fruit chardonnay. Now what do you think chicken carbonarra goes better with?"

Dinner was a delicious combination of great food, interesting wine, easy conversation and more importantly, no more run-ins with Michael. As their dishes were cleared and the last of the wine finished, Pam looked out over the side of the patio to watch the last of the sunset dip under the horizon.

"Feel like sharing something chocolate maybe?" Jim asked sliding the menu between them, nudging her folded hands with the edge of it to catch her attention.

Pam looked back at Jim and nodded with a slight smile as she leaned in to look at the menu. She managed to make it through the meal unscathed. At one point, she just wanted to blurt everything out to him, but not over chicken and penne and most certainly not with Michael in the next room. Pam wanted to get back home, but sharing a piece of chocolate raspberry torte with Jim sounded too good to pass up.

"Well, if you decided to get the chocolate raspberry, I guess I can take a few bites," she said sarcastically. "But you're on your own if you get the truffle laced ice cream with it. I'll definitely get a tea though."

"Duly noted Beesly," he chuckled. He placed his order with a smile. A few bites of chocolate later, the waiters were blowing out the candles set along the edge of the whitewashed patio and started to bring in some of the chairs as the clock was creeping towards nine o'clock.

"Well, looks like that's the all knowing sign that we need to leave. You all set?" Jim asked, signing the check and shifting back in his chair.

"Yep, all ready," Pam agreed, sipping the last of her tea and moving out of her chair. "It was fantastic night Jim, thank you. Michael moment included."

"You're not getting rid of me this early," he said wrapping his arm around her waist as they walked out of the restaurant. "We've got another reservation this evening. Me, you, that comfy corner of your couch and some really bad early 90's sitcom on TV Land."

She nodded, leaning closer into him. "I guess I can deal with having you bum around on my couch and take up space in the living room for the rest of the night."

The two made their way through the parking lot to head Pam's apartment. Jim slid his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. The tingle was back at the pit of her stomach and it slowly crept its way up to her face. It really was a great night. She stopped for a moment, watching as Jim slipped head of her by a few paces. The clouds have slid away, the stars are twinkling and the moon is casting enough light to make the parking lot look as if it was sprinkled with shimmer. It's ironic almost, another parking lot and another deep breath.

"Can I ask you something?" she said, wondering why she asked that when what she's about to say isn't even a question. It's a declaration, a feeling.

"Shoot," he smiled.

She wondered if he remembered saying it on that other night that felt like it was a lifetime ago, but then she wondered how she remembered it when it seemed so far away. She was ready for this, anxious to tell him those words, when a voice cut through the hum of the lights.

"Night Jim! Night Pam!" Michael belted out from across the lot. Jim waved to him and then the moment slipped away. Pam let him take him take her arm when he said, "And _that_ is our cue to leave."


	4. Per Ora e Sempre

"Now, let's see do we watch the Friday night Full House-a-thon on TV Land or Murder She Wrote back to back on Hallmark

Per Ora e Sempre

"Now, let's see… do we watch the Friday night _Full House_-a-thon on TV Land or _Murder She Wrote_ back to back on Hallmark?" Jim asked as he shed his shoes and started to settle down into the couch. He patted the spot to his left as she shuffled past him. "What will it be?"

"_Full House_," Pam called out from her bedroom as she put her shoes and cardigan away. "Gotta love John Stamos back in the day."

On her way back into the living room, Pam snagged the remote off the top of her bookshelf and settled down next to Jim. "Or not," she said, trying a few different buttons on her remote. "Looks like that's out of the question, I guess the cable's out again." Pam tossed the remote onto the coffee table in front of them.

They sat there together on the couch, cuddled together against the worn left arm. Jim's arm wrapped around her shoulders, his fingers toying with the ends of her curls. Pam sighed lightly, dropping her head back against him.

"So much for that plan," she explained. "I know, so not the rest of the evening we had in mind..."

Jim put a finger over her lips. "Hey, hey now none of that. You and me, not in the confines of Dunder-Mifflin, that makes it great no matter what," he said, reaching for the smaller remote on the end table next to the couch. "Music?" he asked as he flicked on her speakers.

_Find me here; speak to me. I need to feel you; I need to hear you. You are the light that's leading me to the place where I find peace again_started to come through the speakers, Jim singing along with the lyrics under his breath, barely audible to Pam.

They had been looking for a song on Jim's iTunes to use in their latest prank on Andy when she came across the song. Pam put her hand over his on the mouse, preventing him from moving to the next song on the list. "I need this one," she said softly and leaning her head against his. "It's good."

"Ahh that's the one," he said as he stood up off the couch and placed the remote down. "Exactly what I was looking for."

He held out his hand, tugging her up off the couch and into his arms. "This time it will be dancing," Jim whispered lightly into Pam's ear as he held her close, moving slowly along with the music.

Without another thought, without hesitation, the words escaped Pam's lips before she even realized it, "God, I love you."

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and tilted his head back to look into her eyes.

The look on his face, the pause in their movements sent Pam into a bit of a tailspin of slight panic. _What did I do wrong? Did I say it too soon after everything, did I say I too late? Oh god he doesn't feel it that way anymore _she thought to herself as she searched his eyes for some read of him. Pam had thought she was ready.

It brought her back months before when she had just moved out, in her apartment alone with her two friends Ben and Jerry, watching "Never Been Kissed". Drew Barrymore pouring her heart and soul out into her column, telling Michael Vartan she loved him, asking, almost begging him to meet her – and he never showed. Pam shut the movie off in disgust, hugging her knees to her chest and just continued what seemed to be the never-ending waterfall of tears and hurt.

She felt like she was stuck in that movie, she was reliving Drew Barrymore's heartbreak in her own little world. Pam stutters out barely, "Jim, you know what, never…"

Jim cut her off her rambling, placing two fingers over her lips, "Pam, stop. You can't…don't be afraid." She looked at him quizzically, with a touch of fear lingering in her eyes. He slid his fingers away from her lips to stroke her cheek lightly. "Ok, so I know you may have heard this before, but I'm going to say it again. I love you, I'm so in love with you."

Her breath came rushing back into her lungs and she released what sounded like half cry half laugh. She lifted her head to look Jim in the eyes. "I do," she said, watching as his eyes slowly changed in color, become more intense as they fixed on her. "Love you. More than I could every put into words. I think even more than I can even realize. You're what I've been looking for even when I thought I had already found my forever. I don't want anyone other than you. I love you, Jim."

"Can you, would you mind saying that again," he said in a sigh, leaning his forehead against hers, drawing her closer to him. "I promise this time won't be as nerve racking for you."

"I love you," she whispered, her lips a whisper away from his. Pam felt his breath, a cooling mist against her lips, felt his heart starting to race against her chest. Jim slid a hand slowly from around her waist, up her arm to bury his fingers in curls at the base of her neck.

"I love you too Pam, I love you too," Jim before bringing his lips to meet hers. The tingling returned, not creeping this time, but a full tidal wave rush over her body. Their kiss didn't grow in intensity; it exploded like fireworks in bold splashes across the sky.

Pam lightly pulled away from Jim's lips, smiling as she saw the look of sheer happiness etched across his face. She began a trail of butterfly kisses over his face, whispering 'I love you' after each one. Jim sighed contently; shifting to rub his hands up and down her back lightly as she worked her lips across his skin. She slowly made her way over the planes of his face, sliding to his ear and down the slope of his neck and back up again. "I don't think I'll ever get sick of telling you how much I love you," Pam before bringing their lips back together again.

"Stay tonight," she asked, as they pulled apart for some much needed air, lacing her hand with his. A half smile spread across Jim's face as he nodded in agreement. He knew what she meant. He slid his hand into hers, and after brushing the top of her hand with a kiss, Jim felt Pam tugging on his hand and leading him down the narrow hallway towards the warm glow of her room.


End file.
